


Suffering Twice

by michaelLemieux



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: M/M, Mentions of past abuse, i am slightly ashamed i wrote this, it wasnt supposed to be this way, mumma!Newt appears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 07:31:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,011
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8835742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/michaelLemieux/pseuds/michaelLemieux
Summary: Newt hates worrying, but Credence changes the subject.





	

**Author's Note:**

> it is not what you think it is i swear. intergalactic-dorks is responsible for opening the floodgates on this. see them.

It had been a messy day. The creatures were restless in the spring, as always, but now that he had a more pressing distraction (not that he minded having Credence around) he perhaps had been caught unawares more than usual. As he fussed over the Swooping Evil and its venom again, murmuring gently to it, his brow twitched and furrowed. He was worried. This was something very out of character, and to be quite frank it was making him rather irritable. 

A frown corrupts his features and he attempts to put his thoughts towards the tending of his small herb garden. Carefully, he plucked off the dead leaves and pressed them softly into the soil for fertilization. Credence would be fine. The soil was dry in one of the herb beds. Credence could mostly take care of himself. He was out of water. Blast. He’d been doing much better recently, and if he got into trouble, he knew how to call Newt. The murtlap was digging at the floorboards again. Credence wouldn’t get into trouble. It was usual for him to need walks and be out in the air. The nundu’s sudden cry startled New enough that he almost dropped something. With an angry huff, Newt waters the herbs, fixes the floorboards scratched up by the murtlap, and spun on his heel to head out and sniff out what Credence had gotten up to. He could not abide this presence missing in his case and he needed to be sure all, and he meant ALL, of his babies were safe from humans. 

His worried mother storm towards the surface was halted suddenly by the opening of his briefcase and Credence’s form slipping down the ladder to meet him. 

Credence’s hair had grown out awkwardly as Newt only new enough grooming magick to maintain his own hair without undue fuss, and thus Credence’s hair had fallen into a sort of disarray. There was no longer a distinctive shape to it, the harsh layers lengthened into something more abstract. It was still soft and cared for to a degree, Credence, of course, would not abide by any fanciful hair products or spells, merely his allotment of plain soap. His clothes were similar and threadbare, but kept well mended per Newt’s usual upkeep. Neither of them had very diverse closets, but both kept a good handle on what they did own. 

Newt opened his mouth to question Credence, but instead, the boy was too far into his personal space, and forced Newt to step back a pace or two. There was not far to go, however, and Credence followed him until his back hit the wall. There, almost pressed against Newt, Credence pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet. 

“I finally found it,” he says in a carefully censored but excited tone. 

It amazes Newt that on his own Credence had found somewhere to purchase the Daily Prophet with the meager allowance Newt had forced upon him in the name of ‘finding something that strikes your fancy’ without any help from another witch or wizard. Pride breaks across Newt’s face, akin to the joy of an egg hatching in his palm, and he beams up at Credence, lips twitching a bit under the strain of such an expression that he isn’t used to showing to another human. 

“That’s wonderful, Credence,” he gushes, but before he can get much further, there are a pair of lips pressed against his.

It surprises him every time Credence initiates a kiss, but he’s beginning to learn that Credence has a side to him that seeks out control. Perhaps it was the reason he’d been beaten so fervently, because his mother had seen that in him and tried to beat it out. Credence would accept the whippings for breaking the rules, but would continue breaking them. He flinched at sudden movements but did not run away. He watched sin and decrepitude without looking away. He did not shy away from the dark or sin. The reason he hunched was to hide how intimidating and gruesome he could be. Width to his shoulders, a solid height, and a frame large enough to fill most doorways. He was not small and meek. Yes, he’d been trained to attempt to appear that way, but he always held the marks of someone deeply curious, and innately in awe of all the wonders he could not understand. 

With Credence’s lips pressed against him, and his body slowly sealing itself against his own, Newt felt again that reverence for the power Credence held. An immense roiling held under pale skin. Control was something beaten into Credence, and he wielded it with deadly precision, deciding when to hold on and when to simply let go. Newt swallows against a whimper as Credence takes him by the waist and pulls their stomachs flush to each other. 

“You taste like magic,” Credence murmurs, pressing his cheek to Newt’s jaw and inhaling the remnants of sweat from his nape. 

He breathes in, open mouthed, tasting the same indescribable presence of magic he recognized from Graves on Newt. It hummed to him, pulling at the buzzing under his skin that ached to unravel him and devour life. 

Newt shuddered as he felt the scrape of teeth and the hot whisper of breath against his throat. In an instant, he was the beta in the jaws of an alpha wolf. They had yet to draw blood, but the presence of teeth was more than necessary to remind him of who was in charge of Credence. Though Newt might be a caretaker in every sense, and taken in Credence as one of his charges, much like the nundu, he was not lord over Credence. 

“Oh,” he breathes in response, sure that his pulse was jumping erratically against Credence’s lips on his artery. 

He feels the smile against his neck and swallows apprehensively. 

“I think I’d like to have you,” Credence murmurs into freckled skin, nosing his way back up to Newt’s jaw. 

“Yes,” Newt exhales, pulling Credence graciously into a kiss. 


End file.
